


Dragon Age: Solavellan

by ttkove



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Solavellan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 18:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11674989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttkove/pseuds/ttkove
Summary: Ellana Lavellan and Solas. Snippets from both POV throughout the game.





	1. Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> This consists of short snippets I wrote as I played my second Solas romance (taking my time with it instead of rushing through it like my first). Just to flesh stuff out. This is also my first fanfiction ever, so there's that.

She woke up in a dark prison cell, in irons, and with a mark on her hand that flared painfully. 

She couldn’t remember how she’d got there. 

What had happened? 

She’d… she’d been sent to the Conclave by her Keeper. How could she go from simply observing the people there to waking up in chains with a strange green mark? 

It certainly hadn’t been there before. 

She couldn’t  _remember_. 

That was the worst of all. If she could… maybe she could get out of this. Maybe she even deserved to be here. But she  _couldn’t_. 

_So what’ll happen now?_


	2. Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I should remember you did not attempt to run."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the prologue, with Cassandra. Short again. It gets longer further down the line.

They’d questioned her, dragged her outside to show her the green hole in the sky that apparently she had something to do with… and then Cassandra had cut the rope around her hands so she could run freely. 

When they were attacked and she saw the staff lying there… of course she grabbed it. 

The Seeker was not happy once the darkspawn were dead. 

She pointed out she didn’t need a staff to be dangerous. Not the wisest course of action, perhaps, but it was the truth. She could do a lot of damage without a staff to channel her magic. The staff simply helped. 

Cassandra bristled… but then deflated, admitting Ellana would need the staff to protect herself. 

So now she wasn’t at the complete mercy of a woman whose introductory phrase had been to ask why she shouldn’t kill Ellana. 

That was something at least. 


	3. Closing the Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They came upon a rift. Time to prove she could help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the prologue. First meeting with Solas. And Varric.

There was a smaller rift. It pulsed green, like her mark, and it spewed darkspawn or demons or spirits or whatever they were into their world. A world they shouldn’t belong in. 

A small group of people were fighting the darkspawn and she jumped into the fray of it, electricity arching from her staff towards the enemies. 

Once they were all dead the rift seemed to sort of… explode and instead of the pulsing from before it now hung there in the air in wispy smoke. 

“Quickly, before more come through!” 

An elf grabbed her hand and held it up towards the green wispy smoke. The mark flared up, as green as the rift, and it  _hurt_ … but she didn’t let that hurt show on her face now that she was surrounded by people. 

She’d had her vallaslin applied without so much as a grunt or groan or a grimace, and she wasn’t going to let these strangers see a weak side of her. 

And then the rift… disappeared. 

“What did you do?” Ellana looked down at her hand, the mark subsiding again for now, taking the pain with it. Then she glanced over at the elf who’d grabbed her hand earlier. 

“ _I_  did nothing. The credit is yours.” He watched her calmly, polite and calm. “Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorised the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake–and it seems I was correct.” 

_Indeed._

She regarded him carefully. He was polite and friendly, yes, but how could he know this? She’d never heard of anything like this. A Breach in the sky, smaller rifts spitting out darkspawn. 

He had no vallaslin, so he wasn’t Dalish. 

A city elf perhaps? 

But how could an elf from an alienage know such things? They did not know more than the Dalish. 

He had two scars on his cheek too. Two long scars. Clearly he’d seen battle. Or violence. 

He didn’t look like a city elf. Not that she’d met many of them. Mostly servants at the Conclave, the short time she’d been there. What she could remember.

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself,” Cassandra said, coming up to Ellana’s side. 

“Possibly,” the elf said. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” 

“Good to know!” a deep voice came from behind them. Ellana turned to see a dwarf standing there. “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” He walked closer, so they were now standing in a little group, the four of them. “Varric Tethras,” he introduced himself. “Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.

Cassandra had a look on her face it was quite easy to read. She didn’t like this dwarf. 

“Are you with the Chantry, or…?” Ellana wanted to get a read on her new companions. Wanted to know who she was dealing with, what she was in the middle of. 

Her question made the other elf chuckle. “Was that a serious question?” 

“Technically I’m a prisoner, just like you.” 

“I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine,” Cassandra said. “Clearly that is no longer necessary.” 

“Yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events.”

Ellana had no idea what story Cassandra was referring to. It wasn’t of utmost importance, however.  

“It’s good to meet you, Varric,” was all she said. 

“You may reconsider your stance, in time,” the elf shot in. 

“Aww, I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.” 

“Absolutely not.” Cassandra stepped forward. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Sekeer?” he argued with her. “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” 

She stared at him for a second. Then she made a noise of disgust in turned away, clearly folding. 

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” The elf walked closer to Ellana now, one hand fluttering to his chest. “I am pleased to see you still live.” 

That had ever been in question? 

“He means ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept’,” Varric said helpfully. 

Here was her chance to learn a little more about him. “You seem to know a great deal about it all.” 

Cassandra had stopped and now turned to look at them. “Like you, Solas is an apostate.” 

“Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra,” he said, as calm as ever. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.” 

“And what will you do once this is over?” It sounded fascinating, travelling like that to learn. 

“One hopes those in power will remember who helped and who did not.” He turned his head towards Cassandra. “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine  _any_ mage having such power.” 

“Understood.” Cassandra nodded her head. “We must get to the forward camp quickly.” 

They both strode off. 

Ellana watched after them, still not sure what to think of all this. 

“Well, Bianca’s excited!” Varric looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read as he walked past her. 

_Bianca?_  Now who was that? 

One of his nicknames? The  _Chuckles_ hadn’t escaped her earlier. 

A small sigh left her. 

She was stuck her now, with that mark on her hand. She couldn’t leave, if she wanted to or not. 

_So to the forward camp it is._


	4. The Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They reached the forward camp. Now there was only the Breach ahead.

The Rift, or the Breach, or whatever they called it pulsed green in front of them. Or above them, really, as by the time Ellana would be down there close to it, it would be far up over her head. 

She had no idea if she could do this. 

The smaller ones they’d encountered so far had been easy enough, but this… This was a big one. 

“This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?” 

Was she? 

Could she? 

She had to try. She had the mark on her hand, for some inexplicable reason. Only she could do this, so she had to attempt to. 

“Seal it and perhaps we seal the Breach.” 

 _No pressure then_. 

 


	5. Friendships

She never meant to get close to any of them. She wasn’t all that good at interacting with others, she was too direct, too brash, too indifferent. But these people… they made it hard. 

They made it impossible, as a matter of fact. 

Talking to Cassandra about life as a Seeker–and her life before she started the Inquisition. Likewise, talking to Cullen about his life as a Templar. Asking Varric about his books, and his home in Kirkwall, and about the Champion of Kirkwall and their associates. 

Listen to Sera talk while not understanding most of it or knowing she held conversation back, yet she did it in sort of an endearing way. Talking to Blackwall about the Grey Wardens. Josephine, about how she became Ambassador; Leliana about her livelihood as the Left Hand of the Divine. And the Iron Bull about the Qunari, Ben-Hassrath, learning more of how the Qun worked. 

Most of all… Ellana liked talking to Solas. He was knowledgeable–he knew so much more than the Keeper of her clan knew. Long, deep conversation about elven magic, the Fade, the Veil, elves in general. 

She knew he didn’t hold a high opinion on Dalish elves–or city elves, for that matter. He counted neither as his people. Who his people were… well, that he wouldn’t say.

Perhaps he had no one anymore, kind of like her. An outcast even amongst her clan. 

He knew so much and he didn’t mind talking about it, explaining, telling her. In fact, Ellana dared bet he enjoyed their talks just as much as she did. 

Travelling the Hinterlands together, the two of them always in the core group. At first the core group had been them, and Cassandra, and Varric, but as more people joined the Inquisition, the team split up from time to time. Sera in particular liked to be out and about, whereas Varric and Cassandra had other things to occupy their time. 

Closing rifts, fighting Templars and apostates, helping people… It felt worthwhile. 

Camping at nights, sitting up at the fire talking with Solas while the rest of the camp slept… She could get used to this. 

She was already used to it. 

And that was a little frightening. 

Because what would happen once all of this was over? 


	6. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This jumps ahead to after the Dark Future. Lavellan ponders everything once she's alone.

It was only that night, once everything had fallen quiet, she let it get to her. Everything about the dark future only she and Dorian could now remember.

It was truly worst case scenario. It was what would happen if she failed.

Solas’s words haunted her.

_“You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong._ _”_

What mistakes had he done? There hadn’t been time to ask. She hadn’t even thought much about it in the moment. But she should’ve asked. If she had, she’d know exactly what to avoid now.

_“But you know nothing of this world. It is far worse than you understand._ _”_

_“This world is an abomination. It must never come to pass._ _”_

She would do her very best.

But she didn’t know where to even begin.

She wished she could talk to him about it, but she didn’t know him all that well. Conversations about trivial things such as elves and magic and the Fade were one thing. This… this was more personal. It bothered her, that future. She couldn’t let someone she didn’t know see her vulnerable.

Especially not now when they all depended on her. On her mark.

The mark she also knew nothing about.

What mistakes had he done?

She’d never find out now. Since she hadn’t asked back in that terrible future, it was no use bringing it up now. He wouldn’t know, after all. For him, she’d only been gone in the blink of an eye… he had no recollection of the year they’d all lived without her.

But she remembered.

And she’d never find answers now.

She could only do her best to not let that future happen.

She  _couldn_ _’t_  let it happen.


	7. Celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've closed the Breach.

They’d made it.

They’d closed the Breach.

Now everyone were celebrating, but Ellana… she couldn’t quite get herself to believe it was over. She’d managed to do what she’d failed at last time. And this time she hadn’t even lost consciousness. That was a celebration in itself.

She hated feeling vulnerable.

Losing consciousness and having other people care for her… that was being vulnerable.

This time, however, she’d walked away from the filed of battle on her own.

Snow crunched as Cassandra walked up behind her. “Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed.”

Ellana nodded.

“We’ve reports of lingering rifts,” Cassandra continued, “and many remain, but this was a victory.”

Yes, it was.

Ellana should look upon it as such and enjoy herself along with the rest of Haven.

“Words of your heroism has spread,” Cassandra said then, and Ellana thought that perhaps she should simply retreat to her chambers.

She didn’t want to be looked upon like a hero.

But she had succeeded.

She’d saved them.

That was a good feeling.


	8. It ends now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little weird posting these short snippets here. It looks better on my gaming Tumblr, where screenshots are included. And entire posts are screenshots to fill out the stories with canon game dialogue. :3

She walked down the snow-filled slopes of Haven towards the trebuchet she’d launched once before. Cullen’s words rang in her ears as she faced the grim fate ahead of her.

“If we are to have a chance—if  _you_  are to have a chance—let that thing hear you.”

She was fully prepared for this. For dying to save the innocent people of Haven. She had the Mark. It didn’t surprise her that it came to this after all.

Cassandra, Solas, and Vivienne walked solemnly at her side.

Ellana could only hope that even if she would die saving the people of Haven, they would somehow make it. They didn’t deserve to die. They were more important than her too. They had lives ahead of them, their paths set.

She… well. She had her clan, but she didn’t feel much companionship with them. She’d always been solitary. These people, the people of Haven, or at least the ones she’d spent the most time with… they felt like clan now. She didn’t want them to die.

But if it saved everyone else…

It would be worth it in the end, she supposed.


	9. Coldness

Ellana was alive. It was… surprising.

She’d been face to face with the Elder One—Corypheus—she’d fired the trebuchet, run off, fallen down… somewhere. And now here she was. Still alive.

How long that would last in this cold she had no idea.

She had to find everyone else. Surely they’d made it? She’d seen the signal arrow, after all. They must’ve made it.

She only had to find their trail, their camp.

But that begged the question… Where was she?

In some sort of cave. The snow was cold, the wind freezing, even inside as she was.

She was so cold.

But she had to press on.


	10. Look to the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solas's POV!

She’d just survived an avalanche, the freezing snow, and everyone were now singing to her. Praising her. Almost… worshipping her.

Solas watched from the shadows, not sure what to make of her. This frail Dalish elf who knew nothing of what it was like to be a real elf. Who knew nothing but lies of her history, most of it already forgotten.

He knows not how she could survive his orb, acquiring the anchor… and now she’d survived Corypheus. She’d survived a mountain falling atop her, levelling Haven, yet leaving her alive.

Did she possess an endless amount of luck?

Or was this some hidden magic he knew nothing about? Like how he knew nothing about how Corypheus could possibly have survived the explosion that by rights should have killed him?

He didn’t know.

It frustrated him.

So for now, he stayed in the shadows, waiting, watching, observing.


	11. A Word

While he’d decided to stay back, to observe, there was one thing weighing on his mind. One piece of information he had to give her. He was the one with all the knowledge, after all, and she had to know about the foci. 

So as she watched the gathered people, he approached her from behind. She didn’t notice him until he was right behind her. 

“A word?” 

She looked over her shoulder. Nodded. 

Solas walked off, expecting her to follow. 

Snow crunched under their footsteps as they headed away from the camp. 

He had to give her something. 

He  _would_ give her something. 

There was something about her, after all. Everything she’d faced, what she’d survived… He could give up a slip of information about the orb. Not enough for her to draw her own conclusions or to ask all too much, but she deserved to know what it was. What she was up against.  


	12. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set somewhere right after their arrival at Skyhold. In the Hinterlands somewhere.

“Do I sense some tension?” Solas sat down quietly next to her.

She stared into the crackling fire. “You might.”

He was silent for a while. “If you need someone to talk to—” he offered eventually.

She glanced over at him. “The Seeker doesn’t like me very much, is all.”

“And why is that?” He looked back at her, meeting her gaze curiously.

“If Sera was here she’d say it’s because I’m too  _elfy_. I suppose there’s something to it.” She sighed. “I don’t know. She didn’t like my decisions, particularly when it came to the mages. Also, I stood up for Varric, which made her furious.” Not to mention Ellana did seem to constantly piss her off in regular conversation.

They’d started out okay, back in Haven. But after the whole ordeal with the mages… things had only gone downhill from that point on.

Ellana knew she might not be the easiest person to be around. She had her opinions and she wasn’t afraid to voice them. She might be too direct in her approach. Too pragmatic to care much for sentiments. Get straight to the point, as it were. Maybe she’d messed up something bad while talking to Cassandra about herself or the Chantry or the Seekers or the Divine.

She didn’t know what it was though, the real reason for the growing antagonism between them.

All she knew was Cassandra had had too much to drink after her spat with Varric—and Ellana had taken the brunt of it. It had all been intended for her, actually. Cassandra’s words had made that clear.

And now here they were, together in the Hinterlands with only Solas and Cole for company. Solas, who was also too  _elfy_  according to Sera, and Cole who Cassandra despised. It was not a fun trip, that was for sure.

“My clan might’ve had a lot to do with humans, but that doesn’t mean I understand everything about them.” Ellana looked back to the fire. Not that it held any answers for her. “I am a Dalish elf. I was raised in a Dalish clan. I lived with my clan until the Conclave. I’ve never lived among humans before. Their culture is different. The way they act—I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I suppose I made some offence along the way, but I can’t imagine what it could be.”

She glanced at Solas now, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was staring thoughtfully out at the dark night surrounding them. She hoped she hadn’t made any offence towards  _him_. He didn’t much care for the Dalish, nor did he care for the city elves. He was… outside both. An elven apostate all on his own, no clan.

She had a hard time forgetting the kiss.

She’d been the one to initiate, but he’d taken it further.

Then he’d taken a step back.

Had she offended him too? Was that why he needed time to think? Or was he simply cautious? She believed the latter, but as was evidenced with Cassandra now, Ellana did not know everything. She knew little, in fact, especially when it came to humans.

But who could expect anything else?

“I wish she’d tell me. Or give me some slack considering my background. Dalish elves and a human noble… there’s a whole world of difference there. It’s not easy to bridge.”

“That it is not,” Solas agreed quietly and that… that was why he had it so simple.

He was calm, collected, friendly, well travelled, and he had a world’s worth of patience. His disapproval shone through often, yes, but he still managed to be polite about it.

Ellana on the other hand… she was direct, no-nonsense, get-straight-to-business. When there was a job ahead she was more interested in getting it done as quickly as possible than to dabble in thoughts and feelings.

“I should try to get some sleep.” She put her palms on her knees, straightening up. “It won’t be long until the sun comes up.”

Solas looked towards the horizon. “Sleep well, lethallin,” he offered quietly.

She stared down at him, at how the light from the flames danced across his face. His two long scars stood out, making his already good looks more rugged.

She didn’t know why he kept calling her lethallin when that was the term generally used for males. Perhaps it was another of his Fade dreams or memories. Maybe the terms had started out the opposite of what they were now.

Perhaps one day, if she felt comfortable enough around him, she’d ask.

For now, she wasn’t sure where he stood. The kiss had been incredible. She wanted more. But he’d halted them, said he’d needed time to think about it. And she’d give him that, she would. She wouldn’t force anything upon him. Either he returned her feelings or he did not.

“Sleep well.” She refrained from brushing a hand over his shoulders as she walked past him towards her bedroll. Also because of where they stood. She wasn’t in a habit of casually touching people she weren’t involved with in an intimate sense, after all.

Her life, in particular her personal relations, had become quite complicated since she’d joined the Inquisition. She hoped at least the relations with Solas would clear itself up soon—she didn’t hold out the same hope for Cassandra, however. The Seeker was as stubborn as Ellana was, and two stubborn women together… well.

She could only wait and see what was in store.


	13. Company of Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She left Dorian alone to talk with his father. He didn't need her there.

She emerged from the Gull & Lantern alone.

“Where’s Dorian?” Solas asked.

“He’ll stay behind. We return to Skyhold. He’ll meet us back there.” She hoped his reunion with his father wouldn’t go too terribly. From what she’d heard whilst in there, she didn’t hold out much hope, however. There were bad blood there… and Dorian had good reasons to not be on good terms with the man.

It was strange though… the reason he brought up for their estrangement. It was mostly for who Dorian chose to sleep with.

Back in the Free Marches, with her clan, no one cared who you slept with. It was never an issue. Unless you slept with someone bonded to someone else… that was never good, with the Dalish or the humans, for obvious reasons.

But Dorian… just because he preferred the company of men in his bed… That wasn’t right.

Ellana didn’t mind at all.

She’d have to tell him when he returned to Skyhold.

She quite preferred the company of men too, after all.


	14. The Winter Palace

“What a night,” Solas said as he followed her back to her room. It was just the two of them, they’d evaded everyone else for some time alone. They’d just finished dancing on the balcony and now she wanted some proper time alone with him, where no one could disturb them. “Intrigue, a plot to overthrow the Empress, assassinations.”

She chuckled. “You sound like you enjoy this.”

“Maybe I do.” He gave her an inscrutable look.

Perhaps she’d done the right thing then, in letting the Empress be assassinated before they made their move. Perhaps she’d done right into blackmailing Gaspard so all the power went to Briala, for her to work from the shadows.

They arrived at the door to her quarters.

He smiled slightly, making a move to walk away.

“No.” She grabbed his upper arm and pulled him with her inside, closing the door behind her again with finality. “You don’t get to leave tonight.”

He stood in front of her, head angled slightly so he could look down at her. “We have spent countless night together.”

“In a tent, yes, with our companions right alongside us.” She wanted more than that. Much more. “That day in my quarters… once you’d agreed to this… even then you left.”

“Vhenan.”

“Even after saying  _that_.”

They stared at each other, a touch of challenge.

Then he grabbed her, pulling her in close, arms locking around her waist as his head dipped down to kiss her. He was soft, dressed in the finery again.

“Damn armour,” she muttered. “I never got a chance to change back into the dress. Not that I want to, really. Why was I the only one who had to wear a dress?”

He chuckled. “You looked a fine figure in that dress.”

Well, it hadn’t been the worst thing she could’ve worn. But she still would’ve much preferred to wear the finery the rest of them had on.

“Even if it was a Dalish-inspired dress?” She couldn’t help the quip. She knew he didn’t much care for the Dalish, after all.

“Even so.” He smiled now. “I would’ve enjoyed getting you out of that dress,” he said then, bringing her attention back to him fully. “But I suppose armour will have to do, even if it is a bit more intricate.”

His hands travelled down to her thighs, suggestively she thought at first, but then he grabbed her, hoisting her up.

An undignified squeal left her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, then she started laughing. “I like you when you’ve had a little too much to drink. You’re not nearly as careful and withdraw as usual. Perhaps I should keep a glass filled at your side at all times.” If this was what it got her… it might be worth it.

He chuckled again, carrying her over to the bed and swiftly depositing her on it. “Now about that armour…”

It was well into the wee hours of the morning before they got any sleep.


End file.
